


yesterday

by Kit_Kat21



Series: Beatles Tribute [9]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Domestic Violence, F/M, Minor Jon Snow/Sansa Stark, Pregnancy, Running Away
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-06-17 07:24:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15456255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kit_Kat21/pseuds/Kit_Kat21
Summary: She felt dizzy and her chest burned and her side had the most awful stitch in it by the time she reached the train station. She didn’t stop though. She ran right to the ticket counter, practically throwing herself against it.“One-way to Wintertown,” she gasped, sucking in much needed oxygen.





	yesterday

…

 

She ran as fast as she could with the gym bag over her shoulder, banging into her thigh with each step. She didn’t even remember what she had shoved inside. She just knew what she _hadn’t_ taken. Her cell phone had been nearly thrown onto the table in the kitchen before she left and she could only hope – _pray_ – that that would be enough and he wouldn’t be able to track her.

 

And that was why she was running now; running as fast as she could. Ramsay went to work every day and she didn’t know if he had someone watching their flat while he was gone or not. It wouldn’t surprise her if he did and Sansa could only run as if her life was depending on it – because it was. Her life and her baby’s. She hadn’t even known about the baby an hour ago and already, it had become the most important thing in the world to her.

 

She felt dizzy and her chest burned and her side had the most awful stitch in it by the time she reached the train station. She didn’t stop though. She ran right to the ticket counter, practically throwing herself against it.

 

“One-way to Wintertown,” she gasped, sucking in much needed oxygen.

 

The man behind the counter was clearly startled by her sudden presence – that or the large bruise blooming across her cheek or the bruises on her neck from Ramsay’s latest _game_ last night. Normally, Ramsay didn't hurt her face, but last night, he had been a little... well, there had been no stopping him. 

 

When the pregnancy test showed positive with the two pink lines, she had frantically tried to remember if Ramsay had punched her in the stomach over the past few weeks. He liked to do that, too. But thankfully, she couldn’t think of a recent incident. 

 

“Wintertown?” The ticket clerk repeated once he had shaken himself back to it and looked to his screen.

 

“Yes. As soon as you have,” she said, her words still breathless and she could feel tears stinging her eyes.

 

She quickly looked over her shoulder, but she didn’t see anyone who might be following her. When she looked back to the clerk, he was studying her closely. Sansa could only imagine what he was thinking as he looked at her. Actually, what he was probably thinking wasn’t that far from the truth. A girl shows up, beaten and obviously terrified, there were only a few things a person could think.

 

With trembling fingers, she reached into her back pocket where she’s stuffed some money. She waitressed at the café across the street from their flat – it was the only time Ramsay let her leave – and she would normally have to hand her tips over to him every night. But this was what she had been pocketing. It wasn’t much. She was always so afraid that if she kept _too_ much to herself, Ramsay would, somehow, find out and just the idea of what he would do always terrified her enough to keep nothing more than this.

 

The clerk was tapping on his computer and he then hit a button, turning towards Sansa once again.

 

“I don’t know if this enough,” Sansa said with a shaky voice as she pushed the money across the counter towards the clerk. “How far will this get me?”

 

He promptly ignored the money and he pushed a train ticket towards her. “We have a nonstop train leaving for Wintertown on platform 3, leaving in eight minutes.”

 

With that, he grabbed a sign and set it in front of his window. “ **Be Right Back** ”

 

He then came around the counter and Sansa was looking at him, not understanding what was going on. The man began taking Sansa’s money, taking the time to straighten the bills neatly, before he turned back to Sansa, holding them out towards her.

 

“You keep this,” he said.

 

Sansa looked down to the money and then to the clerk. He was an older man, a little shorter than her, with dark hair, sprinkled with white, and his green eyes were focused on her, but Sansa saw nothing, but a warm kindness looking at her. When was the last time someone had looked at her like that?

 

“I don’t…” she shook her head rapidly. “I don’t understand.”

 

“Let’s get you to platform 3,” he said and after pushing the money into Sansa’s hands, he didn’t touch her, but his hand went to her back, hovering, and Sansa, still confused, turned and began walking with him. “Now, the trip will take about four hours and you promise me that you will get something to eat from the dining car in that time,” he said as they walked down the platform.

 

Sansa, still having no idea what was going on, found that she could only nod her head.

 

She looked over her shoulder again to see if anyone was following her now. She didn’t think so. The station was crowded that day though. What if Ramsay was here? What if he already discovered that she had left and he had already tracked her down? He could be hiding somewhere, waiting to pop out at any point and grab her-

 

“Here we are, love,” the clerk interrupted her thoughts. They stopped in front of one of the train cars. “You have your ticket. Remember. It’s a non-stop. Sit near the conductor’s car. Okay? He’ll be able to help you if anything happens. Alright?”

 

Sansa nodded. She couldn’t find her voice. A fresh round of tears flooded her eyes. It had been so long since someone had been so nice to her and so long since someone had helped her.

 

“Thank you,” she whispered.

 

“You take care of yourself, alright?” He asked.

 

Sansa could only nod her head. She looked down to the ticket and money still in her hands.

 

“Go on then, dear,” he smiled and gestured for her to climb up. “I’ve heard that the first step is sometimes the hardest step to take, but you got yourself here. You’re already halfway there.”

 

Sansa took one step up, but then stopped herself. She looked back to the man. “I don’t…”

 

“Go on. Get yourself to Wintertown,” he said, still smiling.

 

Sansa swallowed thickly. Wintertown. _Home_. She would call her dad the instant the train arrived at the station. Would her dad come and get her? Would her mother come with him? Would she see her family in just four hours? Would they even want to see her? She hadn’t talked to them in months. What if she got back and no one cared? Worse, what if they wished she was gone again?

 

If that was the case, where would she go? Where in Westeros would Ramsay not find her? Where would she live? What would she do for work? She had a baby coming and she was going to protect this baby with her very life if that’s what she had to do to keep him or her safe.

 

Her mind was racing.

 

A face popped into her mind then. A face she had tried so hard to forget, but honestly, she knew that she probably never would. Every time Ramsay carved into her skin or bit her or tied her to the bed and dropped burning wax onto her skin, she had trained her brain to go so far away from that moment. She would imagine Jon Snow, kicking in the door and beating Ramsay and carrying her out of there.

 

Jon Snow – the first, and only, man she’s ever loved. And the first man to break her heart and show her that in this world, Sansa Stark didn’t mean much. She was ready to have everything with him and he… Well, that mattered even less now than it did before she found out was pregnant.

 

Jon Snow should be the last thing on her mind so Sansa did what she did always did when that face of his popped into her mind.

 

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath and it was like – poof! Gone.

 

Sansa took a deep breath and wiped her cheeks, but the tears just kept falling and when she touched her cheeks, she remembered about the bruise and it stung with the contact.

 

She then looked to the clerk, still standing there, watching her and making sure she got on board safely. He hadn’t left. He was still there. He wasn’t leaving her.

 

He wasn’t leaving her. 

 

“I don’t even know your name,” she said quietly.

 

The clerk’s smile softened. “Brandon.”

 

Sansa felt her breath catch in her throat. Brandon was a Stark family name; one of the oldest names on their tree. And just hearing that this man had the same name, the tears from Sansa’s eyes began streaming down her cheeks. She knew he wasn’t a Stark and yet, she almost wondered if someone somewhere was looking out for her and if they had known that this name would mean so much to her.

 

“Thank you, Brandon,” she whispered.

 

She jumped when a whistle was blown and she knew that the train was getting ready to leave.

 

“Go on, love,” Brandon said, gesturing for her to get on board.

 

“Bye,” she said and wished she could say something more, but what she didn’t know, before turning and climbing the rest of the way onto the train.

 

She handed her ticket to the conductor and she walked down the aisle into the first car – just as Brandon had told her to do. The train didn’t seem to be that crowded and as she sat in a seat next to the window, she looked and saw Brandon standing on the platform. When he saw her, he gave her a wave, and with tears still on her cheeks, she raised her hand in return.

 

Her other hand rested on her stomach. Four more hours and she’d be home. Four more hours and she would see her family again – if they wanted to see her. And four more hours until she had hundreds of miles of distant between herself and Ramsay. Her baby and her would be away and she didn’t know if they would actually be safe, but at least, right now, Sansa could say that she was trying for them to be.

 

The whistle blew again and then she could feel the train begin to slowly pull away. She didn’t take her eyes off of the kind clerk, even as he turned and began to walk to return to his post. Sansa pressed her forehead against the glass and watched him for as long as she could.

 

She didn’t know if she would make it to Wintertown safely. Maybe Ramsay was on this train already or maybe, he had figured where she was going and had gotten a head start, driving there to meet her at the station before she could call her dad. Anything could happen, she knew, and her heart continued to race – well aware of that – but with her hand still on her stomach and her forehead still against the window, Sansa let herself close her eyes.

 

She would call her father as soon as the train pulled into the Wintertown station and she would ask if he would come and get her and then she would just have to wait and see what happened next.

 

No matter what happened, at least she had run. Finally. It had taken her so long, but at least she finally had – for her baby. And for herself, too, but mainly for the little baby living right now inside of her. No one could say that she hadn’t tried. She could only hope and pray that she would live to see tomorrow where she could keep trying and maybe, the day after tomorrow, or a month from now, or years from now, she would be able to send Brandon the money he had given her for this ticket and her chance. Even if no one else cared or would care, Sansa thought that maybe Brandon the train station clerk was the one person in the world who might care to hear whether Sansa Stark had finally made it or not.

 

…

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you!


End file.
